Broken Minds and Beautiful Lies
by lizzyswan
Summary: Case study fic. Glee characters are in a mental hospital, each with a different disease/disorder. Follow each of them into the realms of insanity as they battle with reality and imagination in a war of sanity. Who will succeed, and who will fail? Don't hate us too much; the saddest lies are the ones we tell ourselves...
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Rachel Berry

**Author's Note****: PLEASE READ: this story is a series if one-shots, each focusing on a different person. I already have a list, but feel free to review with a suggestion of what other characters you'd like to see, as well as a suggestion for a disorder. NOTE: the first fifteen characters have been chosen, with their disorders. I will not change one of them unless someone convinces me a different disorder is a better fit. I am only doing students from Glee, not adults. If you make a suggestion, it will have to be both a character, and a disorder for me to consider it.**

**WARNING****: My knowledge of these disorders/diseases does not come from personal experience or knowledge. My information comes from a series of medical websites and psychology books. I have taken liberties with the information; do not take my interpretation as a medical standpoint.**

_Rachel Berry  
-Age: 17  
-Reason for admittance: Histrionic and Narcissistic Personality Disorders  
-Status: Unchanged  
-Description: Rachel continues to be unaffected by all treatment. The visits by her fathers seem to be encouraging the disorders. Make note to limit visits. Rachel is having problems with her fellow patients... She continuously belittles others, and is not affected by other's feelings. Her inflated sense of self-worth continues to increase..._

The room was small, and hardly furnished, bland and drab to a depressing degree. A few gaudy posters peppered the gray walls, but they seemed out of place in comparison to the regulation light-wood furniture set. It was odd looking, but I didn't intend to spend much time here anyway. I was sitting on a hard-backed chair in front of the dresser, over which was perched a thick plastic mirror. Because of where I was, they didn't real glass, in case one of the others here tried to hurt themselves. Honestly, it wasn't like I was going to allow one of them into my room! I turned my head away from the mirror, but kept my eyes focused on my reflection, so as to admire my profile. I nodded decisively. My eyes and jaw line were pretty, and although the nose was a bit unfortunate, I was certain it gave me character, personality. People looked for that, you know.

"I feel pretty, oh so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and gay! And I pity, any girl who isn't me today..."

I sang softly as I combed through my hair with my fingertips. It never seemed soft enough, nor smooth enough to me. I was still in this stupid nuthouse with all the crazies, so I can't even have a proper hairbrush! They're worried that I might hurt myself, or something ridiculous. As if I would hurt me- what an absurd notion! And of course I have to dress like the rest of them... My own clothes were so much better, but apparently the idiots here don't understand that. Not only was I stuck here, but I wasn't even given the preferential treatment that everyone knew I deserved. Even after my dads paid for me to have an extra big room all for myself, they insisted on treating me like the rest of them.

I looked at the last letter my fathers had given me. This awful place restricted when they could visit me, so they had taken to writing letters to me- almost every day. The nurses didn't seem to have a way to stop them, or even realize that I was communicating with my fathers so often. It was great- I loved seeing them, of course, but sometimes I liked it better that I had written communication, so I could read the letters over and over again when my dads couldn't visit me.

_Dear Rachel,  
How are you doing, sweetie? I know you don't like being there, but the doctor insisted. I'm sure they'll realize that you don't belong there soon enough. In the meantime, just persevere, get some experience for your acting skills, and always practice your singing! Yes, we are fine, and yes, we watch the home videos every night. We miss you so much, Rach, but the nurse said we shouldn't visit so often! Don't worry; we'll take care of it. There's always someone who needs a little bit of encouragement to look the other way. I'm sure we can make a deal with the head doctor soon enough. Don't forget, you are a Berry; you're our little golden star. Don't let them get you down, sweetie. You'll be out of there soon, and then everyone will see how great you are!  
Love you, Daddy._

They were so wonderful. The music industry was a difficult and ruthless one, but they have always been so supportive of my dreams.

"Rachel?"

One of the nurses called to me. Idiots, all of them. I told them to call me 'Miss Berry', but none of them listened to me! Someday, they would pay. I would be a famous actress someday, and then they would beg for my signature. They would wish they were nicer, but it would be too late, and I would laugh in their faces. I blew a kiss to my reflection, winked, and followed the nurse out the door. Despite my OBVIOUS superiority, I would have to obey them- for now.

"Rachel, it's time for breakfast!"

The nurse exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic, but coming off as sour. She was probably jealous of my talent. Most people were, but no one admitted it- they were embarrassed to say it, but I knew. Everyone loved me, and they wished they had my voice. It's not that I think I'm the center of the universe, but I'm the center of my own world- and in comparison to the ones around me, that's the one that matters. Really, they should be thanking me for being near them!

"H-hello, Rachel."

Said Finn, one of the more tolerable young men here. He was always nervous, so I suppose that was what is wrong with him. Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to affect his reason; he at least complimented me. Admittedly, it took some prompting, but eventually he did it without having to be told to. Not that anyone needed to be told I was great- Finn just needed to be told it was okay. I nodded at him, smiling a tiny bit. Finn followed me into the dining room, smiling nervously, and running his hands through his hair. He had a crush on me, I could tell. I mean, every guy here did, but Finn liked me the most. And he was alright, I suppose. Good-looking enough to follow me around. And he was rather tall, that was nice.

There seemed to be a rather large crowd, so I pushed my way to the front of the line, where I belong.

"Have you seen Lord Tubbington?"

A blonde crazy with a vague look in her eyes asked me. She must have been one of the patients here, but I can't say that I remember ever seeing her before.

"Who?"

I said, confused. That was a ridiculous name.

"My cat, of course."

She said smiling.

I scoffed. Just like I thought- a crazy girl.

"There aren't any cats here, freak. No pets allowed, remember?"

The blonde's smile disappeared, her eyes misted, and her chin started to tremble. Great. I hated it when other people cried. It took away from the significance of when I cried. A Latina girl pushed her way over to me.

"Who the hell do you think you are, hobbit?"

The Latina girl screamed at me. I had never bothered to learn her name, or the blonde's name.

I screamed at her,

"Excuse me? How do you not know me- Rachel Berry, future star? How dare you-"

I was cut off by the nurses, as the Latina and I were pulled into different rooms. The nurse tried to calm me down, but I was seething. She was probably saying something, but she didn't matter. I was too furious to pay attention to her anyway. How dare they not know my name?! She was lying, she must have been. I assured myself, and calmed at the thought. Yes, that was it, she had been lying. Still angry, but no longer panicked, I took advantage of the situation. I threw myself down the bed dramatically, and burst into noisy tears.

I hate this place.

**Author's Note****: Thoughts? Criticism? Questions?  
Anything is welcome!  
****  
PLEASE READ****: Also, when I'm done with this fanfiction, I will post a list of songs that relate to each of the characters' disorders, and I would like your suggestions. You can tell me each character separately, as I post the chapters, or at the end.  
Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Finn Hudson

_Finn Hudson  
-Age: 17  
-Reason for admittance: Generalized Anxiety Disorder  
-Status: Worsening  
-Description: Finn's social interaction is minimal at best. In addition, his moods and anxiety attacks often seem to depend on and correlate with patient Rachel Berry's. His condition seems to be worsening. It is unlikely he will make any progress here. The request for his transfer is in transit. It appears unhealthy for him to be near Rachel..._

The room was too small; the walls were closing in on me. I felt boxed in, a pale gray-brown covering every surface, surrounding me. I tried to distract myself, to think of anything except the slowly shrinking area I was in. I wondered, briefly, how long before the walls crushed me.

"Finn dear, are you sure you are alright?"

My nurse asked me, frowning slightly.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine."

I told the nurse, though my slight stutter did not reassure her.

The nurses worried, but I was normal, really. I just... I don't like not knowing things. I shivered. Uncertainties made me nervous. I didn't like what I couldn't control. In short, I worried. I always had to know things. Sensing a panic attack, I looked around wildly, and my eye caught the second hand of my watch, moving around and around. Time. I liked time. It was constant, it was safe. I wore a watch on each wrist, and they were both exact. If one of them broke, I would still have the other.

Eight thirty-nine, and five seconds.

Six seconds.

Seven seconds.

I relaxed a little. I tore my eyes away from the watch. They didn't like it when I counted seconds, because once I got going, I really couldn't stop. I wasn't the smartest kid, but I liked very simple math as well (but no variables). The answers were consistent, unlike people. I didn't like people. I liked numbers.

"Would you like to go to breakfast, Finn?"

The nurse asked.

I panicked. No. Wrong time. Everything had to be exact. I shook my head frantically, and began to rock back and forth. I wouldn't leave until eight forty-five and zero seconds. No uncertainties. If something different happened, things might go wrong. I could bump into someone, and fall down the stairs! A storm would tear down the power lines! Or maybe a rowdy patient would become violent! Everything little thing made me worry. I could never relax, not even when I was alone. There was always something that could go wrong. I noticed that I was panicking, and looked at my watch to steady myself. That helped sometimes, a habit I picked up from somewhere. As I watched the seconds go by, counting each one, I relaxed slightly.

Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven...

Yes, counting was good. When I didn't have something to think about, I panicked, or I assumed I knew what people thought of me. I usually assumed the worst was true, so I would not be unprepared by anything. It was probably true anyway. Why would anyone want to be around me? Even here, I wasn't normal.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid-_

I had the habit of punishing myself mentally. I would scrunch my eyes up, pull my head down, and hit myself in the forehead. Or sometimes I would bite my tongue, or pinch my fingertips. When I did something wrong I did it automatically, reprimanding myself. When I tried to explain, no one seemed to understand. Then they'd drop the subject, because they knew I'd get anxious if I continued to explain. And I didn't look extraordinarily odd when doing it. The nurses were concerned when I mentioned it, but they didn't get it. No one ever knew what I was talking about.

I looked back at my watch.

Eight forty-four and fifteen seconds.

I stood up, and waited right inside the doorway until it was time to go. I left my room at exactly the right time, and walked down the hallway, my nurse following behind me with almost silent footsteps. I panicked slightly. Who would I sit with at lunch? I hoped I didn't have to meet anyone new! First impressions sucked. And then they might hate me, or kill me, or want to spend more time with me-

And my ramblings were cut short, as then I saw her.

Rachel Berry.

My pulse sky-rocketed and my breathing became labored. She was a fellow patient here, but she never lowered herself to socialize with anyone else. We mostly saw her at mealtimes. She was one of the most unpredictable people in the world, even more than the patients who had uncontrollable mood swings. Even worse, she seemed to want to spend time with me. I tried to avoid her, but somehow she was always there, demanding and questioning, confident and terrifying. It made me more nervous than I had ever been in my life. I steadied myself, and walked over to her. In my mind, I was chanting,

_Get it right, get it right, get it right!  
_  
"H-hello, Rachel."

I said, berating myself on the inside. I must sound so stupid! I had no idea how she would react today. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!

She nodded at me, but didn't say anything. What the hell did that mean?! Was I supposed to leave, or follow, or god-forbid, maybe she expected me initiate conversation? I panicked at the thought. But I couldn't just stand her like an idiot! I smiled, hoping to avoid making myself look even more awkward. As we walked, I ran my hands through my hair, a nervous habit. Being around people made me nervous, because I didn't know what they were thinking. Anything I said could affect someone in a different way. I didn't want people to be angry. I just couldn't handle it. Everything had to be perfect! And if something wasn't perfect, things would go horribly wrong. I worried about what would go wrong quite a lot. It was a habit. I have a lot of those.

I followed Rachel into the cafeteria, where there were other people, most of who I knew by name. I didn't interact with them, as little as possible in most cases, but I could relate a face to a name. The majority of them ignored me, only some bothering to even look. A blonde girl smiled at me. Brittany, I knew her name was. She was one of the only people I could be around without freaking out. She was always happy and accepting of what you said, as long as you treated her like a normal human being. Most everyone liked Brittany. She also didn't mind sitting around, doing nothing, and when Brittany didn't talk, you could tell it didn't mean anything. The nurses like it when I hung out with Brittany; they thought I didn't get enough social interaction. Unfortunately, Brittany was almost always with Santana, who scared me a bit. But Santana mostly ignored people, and she seemed indifferent to me as long as I was kind to Brittany.

Brittany asked something of Rachel, who responded. Then suddenly Santana was there, and she was yelling at Rachel. No, no, no! This was wrong. There was yelling, and something was going to go wrong, people were going to get hurt, and-

I covered my head with my arms, and twisted my neck rapidly from left to right. My heartbeat thudded in my ears, and my breath became labored. My vision grew gray around the edges as I started to tremble. I noticed a nurse dragging me away, and then I felt no more.

**Author's Note****: Please review, and don't forget to suggest a song!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Kurt Hummel

_Kurt Hummel  
-Age: 17  
-Reason for admittance: Extreme Depression  
-Status: Improving  
-Description: Kurt is healing after his suicide attempt (3) months ago. There have been no following attempts at suicide or self-harm. Increased arts and crafts classes seem to be improving his mood. Fellow patient Blaine Anderson seems to assist in Kurt's healing process..._

I woke, not because of my alarm clock, but by the bright light entering my room via the single, thick-paned window. I knew from experience that the glass was covered in thick clear plastic. This place was nothing if not thorough, I suppose. I wasn't yet sure if I was grateful that they had covered all their bases.

I stretched, and gave a quick glance to the table by my bed. A row of almost full bottles stood hopefully in a row, untouched since my father had placed them there a few months ago. He had to buy me ones that the doctors knew weren't toxic. It had been months since I had done my moisturizer routine, and to be honest, there wasn't much difference. I had not felt the desire to wake up at ungodly times of the morning to put stuff on my face that no one ever cared about. It was just so much easier to sleep in, face the day later, when I could think clearly.

I got up slowly, cracking my back and stretching as I rose. The hard floor felt slightly cool under my feet as I shuffled across the room. In the bathroom, everything was covered in hard plastic. I scratched scraggy half-beard that had popped up on my face overnight. For obvious reasons, they didn't let me shave myself- I had to have one of the nurses do that for me. I called her in, and my eyes wandered around as she shaved the fuzz off my chin. The mirror was made of plastic instead of glass, making my profile look slightly blurred as I glanced sideways.

It had been months since I had seen my reflection perfectly. But that was okay- I knew what I looked like. My eyes flickered down, away from the stranger in the mirror, and focused on my hands. I rubbed my wrists gently with my fingertips. The bandages were gone, but the scars left deep, red ridges in my pale, white skin. Would they leave a permanent scar? I wondered, vaguely, if I'd ever grow to care.

After the nurse left, I got changed into a long sleeve shirt and jeans- generic, not what I would wear at home, but a necessity here. They tried to make it seem more like a home and less like a hospital by giving us leeway on clothes, but the dress code of simple clothing left much to be desired. Not that I would wear the clothes in my old closest here or now, but still- it was the principle of the matter. Sometimes it made me feel like my old self when I thought about clothes.

But for the most part, there was just this overwhelming weight. It was a weight, not just on my shoulders, but on my hands, making them still, and on my eyelids, a faint hint pulling me back to my bed and the blissful oblivion of sleep.

I shook myself slightly, and went to breakfast, which went uninterrupted except by a minor disturbance towards the beginning. Rachel Berry, residential queen diva, had gotten into a rather loud argument with Santana Lopez. I couldn't be bothered to figure out what they were upset about. I sat down at an empty table, but soon someone sat across from me.

"Hey Kurt."

Said a playful voice, and I looked up to see my closest friend, Blaine. He had always been there for me, when I was feeling angry or depressed. For the life of me, I had no idea why Blaine was even here. He seemed perfectly fine to me.

Officially, we weren't supposed to know each other's 'problems' but some people who had been here longer told anyway. And for others, it was pretty obvious. I was one of those in the second grouping- it didn't take a genius to know why I always wore long sleeve shirts.

Blaine was kind of cute in a generic way. What made him stand out was his playful nature, his easy-going attitude, his puppy-dog eyes, and his triangle eyebrows. And he didn't have a problem with me being gay. I mean, I never told anyone, but it's not like I was back in the closet. I wasn't going that route again, I was just more careful with who I trusted. But sometimes, it was just easy to spot. I could admit it- I looked kind of stereotypical gay. It was less obvious now that I didn't dress to impress anymore, but still…

My coiffed light brown hair, pale blue eyes, pasty skin, and delicate bone structure marked me as different from the other boys of my old school. And in that place, being different was deadly. So, most people here had probably marked me as gay, and even though Blaine was kind and honest to me, he most likely made the same assumption.

Maybe, in a different world… if he were… and I was… But I had made my decision even before getting put here- no dating until college (assuming I went to college). I just couldn't handle the prejudices of the small-town atmosphere. I didn't know if Blaine was straight or gay, but I made a promise to myself that I would have to learn to love myself before lending my heart to another. And yes, even in my mind that sounded cheesy, but that was my dad's wording, not mine.

"What's up?"

Blaine asked, smiling widely at me.

"Oh, not much. How are you?"

I said, grinning softly.

Blaine was almost always happy, and his pure enthusiasm for life was almost contagious. It served as a balance to my own morose attitude, and I felt the weight feel a tiny bit less all-consuming.

Blaine and I made general small talk as we ate the tasteless cafeteria food. Actually, it wasn't horrible, but as I enjoyed cooking gourmet, I didn't find it impressive. No one complained about the food's quality that I knew of, but the lack of selection had caused a couple grumbles amount my peers.

I sighed. It's not like it mattered at all.

Blaine and I ate in silence as the chatting of the other patients became a pleasant white noise. We were almost done eating when Blaine broke the silence.

"What are you doing today?"

Blaine asked me. I sighed again, feeling slightly morose.

"Uh, my father's visiting today."

I responded, shifting uncomfortably. While I loved my dad, whenever he visited, he stirred up bad memories. Sometimes it was better when he didn't visit. I thought back to my old school, my old life.

I was so out of the closet back then that I dressed to fit the stereotype, proud of my flamboyancy. I realized that it was a dangerous thing to do, but I felt I had a right to be myself. And I do, but I know now I couldn't expect others to bow down to my ideals. It would take a long time before Ohio accepted flamboyant men. But back then, I taunted the homophobic bullies who tormented me daily. I reveled in the knowledge that they couldn't hurt my spirit, not matter how rude they became. Which, as I found out unfortunately, was completely untrue. Eventually, their hurtful words got to me, and I realized that they could still harm me. Almost unconsciously, I rubbed my left wrist, covered by a thick sleeve.

"Are you okay?"

Blaine asked me, ever noticing my moods. I shook it off.

"I'm fine. See you later?"

His smile faltered, and I noticed for the first time a hint of weakness in his eyes.

"Or, not, if you're busy."

I said hastily, not wanting to make assumptions. It suddenly occurred to me that Blaine, who was so outgoing, had more friends than just me- maybe friends who he'd rather spend time with.

"No. No, that's it what I meant. I'd love to hang out with you later."

He assured me, smiling tightly.

"Great. See you later!"

I said as I got up, and left the table.

I didn't look back, but I think I could feel Blaine's eyes, burning on my back.

**Author's Note****: I think I did an okay job with Kurt, but I'm not sure. I got to say, Kurt is not my favorite character. He's fine later in the series, but I don't like the early Kurt. Sorry if I come off as too harsh, I don't mean to.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Blaine Anderson

**Author's Note****: How do you guys think I'm doing? Any suggestions?**

_Blaine Anderson  
-Age: 16  
-Reason for admittance: Dependent Personality Disorder  
-Status: Unchanged  
-Description: Blaine's isolation has deeply, negatively, affected him. Increase surveillance. Blaine has requested schoolwork, attitude seems to be improving. Possible counseling might be advantageous in the future. His attachment to fellow patient, Kurt Hummel, is unhealthy, and hinders Blaine's treatment. Unfortunately, a separation of the two would set Blaine's treatment back years...  
_  
I woke up to the gentle sound of music from the radio alarm clock. The Beatles crooned softly out from the speakers as I stretched and listened to the soothing music. I hummed along to the lyrics until the song ended, and then I turned off the alarm clock as I got up. A grandmotherly nurse came in through the doorway, smiling like I had made her day by simply being here.

"Hello, dear."

Said the kind, old nurse.

She looked after me while I was here, almost treating me like a child. Whenever I asked for something, she'd try her best to accommodate it, spoiling me horribly. It was wonderful. She was so kind to me after they tried the last dose of isolation treatment.

That had been… Well… I wasn't sure how to describe it. It had been awful and even remembering it made me tremble.

But I was just grateful I wasn't one of the patients who had to be doped up on medication to face the day. I hoped that one day I could overcome my problems. Because you see, I needed people. In fact, I needed to need them. I knew what was wrong with me, but I had no idea to fix it. I didn't even know what had caused the problem. I suppose they must have a few ideas, but no one's telling me anything. I only knew the result. To be perfectly honest, my faith in our world was shaky at best. I wasn't ready to become an adult living by myself. It seemed too...

Lonely.

Terrible, painful, loneliness.

And scary- terrifying, nightmarishly horrifying.

How could anyone live like that? I always seemed to be the kind of person who would do better in a relationship. I didn't like the idea of living alone. Isn't it so much better with someone else there? The idea of being by myself seems so daunting.

It was still early, so I reached out and pulled my backpack close to my bed, unzipped it with one hand, and rummaged around in it.

My parents had insisted to me that I should keep up with my school work, so the school I had previously gone to before coming here was sending me homework. My parents had also printed out some of those assignments that home school parents use, so that I wouldn't fall behind in any of my classes. I didn't want to disappoint them, so I did all the work they gave me, desperate to gain approval from parents, who had incredibly high expectations.

That wasn't to say that they didn't give me approval, nothing like that, but they were occasionally distant, and could get absent minded. They had important jobs that drew much of their time away. And with my brother's huge success, not much impressed them.

I picked up _1984_, my current English assignment, and lost myself in the world of Winston Smith. I loved to read, and it really relaxed me.

_"IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH_

_Throughout recorded time, and probably since the end of the Neolithic Age, there have been three kinds of people in the world, the High, the Middle, and the Low. They have been subdivided in many ways, they have borne countless different names, and their relative numbers, as well as their attitude towards one another have varied from age to age; but the essential structure of society has never altered..." *_

I kept reading, loosing myself to the words of the captivating book. Before I knew it, it was time for breakfast. The nurse followed me as I walked down the corridor, smiling to myself. As I was walking, I saw a disturbance right outside the lunchroom.

Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez were yelling at each other. Standing off to the side was Finn Hudson, and Brittany Pierce. Brittany looked really sad, while Finn looked extremely upset. In fact, Finn started to shake, and I could recognize the beginning signs of a panic attack. The nurses took away Finn, Rachel and Santana, while one nurse comforted Brittany.

Deciding it wasn't really my problem; I passed by Brittany with only a polite smile, and continued into the lunchroom. We weren't exactly close, but most people were friendly with Brittany. It was difficult not to like her.

Breakfast was French toast today, and it looked really tasty. I grabbed a whole bunch, an apple, and a bottle of water. I was really hungry. I looked around, hoping to see someone I recognized. And then I saw him.

Kurt Hummel.

This was the moment of the day that I had been waiting for. Everything else in the world paled in comparison to him. In that moment, anything could have happened, and I wouldn't have noticed it unless it affected Kurt. He was a friend of mine, I was lucky to say, and I spent as much time as I could with him.

I was pretty sure he was gay, buy whenever I tried to flirt with him, he ignored it. I guess he just wasn't interested in me. And why would he? He was Kurt Hummel, extraordinaire, and I was just... Me. I suddenly felt very nervous, and incredibly self-conscious. I took a deep breath, walked over, and sat next to him.

"Hey Kurt."

I said. It might sound a bit creepy, but I loved being near him. Like, talking to him significantly improved my day.

"What's up?"

I continued, hoping to God I didn't sound as ridiculous as I thought I did. I smiled at him, too widely, but I couldn't help it.

"Oh, not much. How are you?"

He responded, grinning softly, looking wonderful. I loved that I could make him happy when he was feeling depressed. Of course, Kurt didn't need anyone, but it was awfully kind of him to be friends with me. I had no idea what I would do without him. Kurt was a significant part of my life, and I needed him like I needed to breath. I know- it sounded so weird. We were only friends, and yet…

Without him, the world seemed so lonely, and fearsome.

We continued to talk, as I tried to not stare. He was so perfect. Everything about Kurt radiated brilliance and I was in awe of him. The more time I spent with him, the more I never wanted to leave him. He was great, he was confident; he was here- with me. I knew I would do anything for Kurt. I got my happiness from knowing that he could count on me. He thought of me as his friend- maybe even his closest friend. I felt honored.

He sighed.

Crap, was he bored? I had no idea...

But he didn't say anything, and continued to smile, so I slowly relaxed. Eventually, our conversation died down as a pleasant silence overcame the discussion. I'm not sure if what I was eating tasted any good, because I could barely notice anything but Kurt. When I noticed that Kurt was done eating, I broke the silence.

"What are you doing today?"

I asked, praying to God that he wanted to spend time with me today.

He sighed again.

Oh no, was it something I said? Maybe he was only spending time with me out of pity, but now he just couldn't stand me, and-

"Uh, my father's visiting today."

He responded, shifting uncomfortably. His eyes glanced away from me, breaking our eye contact. Was he lying to me? Did he want to get away from me, and this was his way of being nice about it? No! Kurt wouldn't lie, not even to someone like me.

"Are you okay?"

I asked, hoping there was something I could do.

"I'm fine. See you later?"

He said, shrugging. Did he not trust me enough to hear his problems? He was just waiting to get away from me wasn't he? I couldn't blame him. I stopped smiling so much; I couldn't keep up the happy façade.

"Or, not, if you're busy."

He said quickly.

He thought I didn't want to spend time with him? Ridiculous! I tried frantically to assure him that wasn't what I meant in my moment of hesitation.

"No. No, that's it what I meant. I'd love to hang out with you later."

I said too quickly, chanting in my head,

_Please don't go, please don't go, please don't go..._

"Great. See you later!"

He said, getting up and walking away. I smiled, just in case he looked back, but he didn't. Of course he didn't, he was Kurt Hummel. Why would he give a second glance to me?

I sighed. I would probably be counting the hours until he came back.

I got up from the table, and threw my half-eaten breakfast away, suddenly not hungry.

**Author's Note****: Does anyone have an idea of what song I'm thinking of for Blaine?**

_* Direct quote from George Orwell's classic 1984._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Brittany Pierce

**Author's Note****: extra long chapter, because everyone loves Brittany! Be kind, because I've never tried to write anything like Brittany's mindset.**

**PS****- sorry for the delay, but maybe Brit can make up for it?**

EDIT: For those who have already read this, I only changed a couple of little things.  


_Brittany Pierce  
-Age: 17  
-Reason for admittance: Schizophrenia  
-Status: Unchanged  
-Description: Brittany's delusions, while evident, are not stabilizing. She still refuses to believe that the delusions are not real, and becomes emotional volatile when confronted. Currently, she is in between two treatments. In addition, fellow patient Santana Lopez seems to encourage the delusions. On the other hand, Santana helps Brittany's moods...  
_  
Sometimes, I can't tell if I'm dreaming or if I'm awake, because there doesn't seem to be much difference between the two. In addition, I'm a somewhat lucid-dreamer. I can't tell if I'm in a dream, but I can control myself, just like in real life. Also, I remember all my dreams, as opposed to just remembering waking up from them. Dreams just seem to be a continuation of reality.

But usually my best friend, Santana, will help me figure it out. Dreams or Reality, she's always there, and together we discover whether I'm dreaming or not. And dream-Santana doesn't try to make me think that she's real-Santana, which is super helpful. And then real-Santana doesn't get bothered by the fact that I sometimes call her dream-Santana by accident.

_We were in a meadow, and the trees around us were tufts of cotton, instead of leaves, like in _The Lorax _movie.  
The sky was pale blue, and soft yellow light poured down into the meadow.  
Tropical birds chirped cheerfully from the treetops, and occasionally flew by.  
The flowers surrounding us were bright blue and pink, like cotton candy, and they smelled of honey and lilacs.  
Dream-Santana sat facing me a few feet away.  
In her hands was a clump of cotton- candy flowers.  
While we sat she tied the stems together, making a crown.  
I was lying down in the flowers with my eyes half-closed.  
This whole world was of my creation.  
I heard soft thumping just outside my meadow, and a herd of cats passed by.  
Suddenly, the world grew blurry, and the sounds of the meadow faded.  
Dream-Santana got up and stretched.  
I was waking up.  
"Bye, dream-San. See you tomorrow night!"  
"Bye, Brit. I'll have your crown ready for you by then."  
Dream-Santana smiled, and waved goodbye to me as I woke up.  
I closed my eyes as the meadow grew grey around the edges.  
_  
I opened my eyes. I was lying on a bed in a drab-looking room. Reality, most likely, rather than another dream, although my mind often played tricks on me. Reality was usually much less exciting than my dreams. Dreams were filled with fun and excitement, whole worlds filled to the brim with wonderful things. Incredibly intricate worlds that were literally created by my imagination. Reality meant medication, treatments, and odd looks.

The only perk was that real-Santana was in reality. Sure there were other people, but none who were ever as kind to me as Santana. I got up out of bed, stretched and looked around my room.

"Hi, Leprechaun!"

I said brightly. There, in my doorway was an Irish guy. He said his name was something else, but I knew that he was my leprechaun.

"Hello, Brittany. I told you, I'm not a leprechaun. Santana's waiting for you, by the way."

I smiled, and thanked him. It was good news, but not unexpected.

Santana usually wait for me before breakfast, so we could walk together. I got ready for the day, humming a song I had heard a couple of days ago. I put on shorts and a t-shirt, but then I wasn't sure if it would be hot or cold, so I slipped on leg-warmers as a compromise.

After I was done dressing, I looked for Lord Tubbington, my cat. Sometimes people said that I couldn't have a cat, but then Lord Tubbington hid when there were other people were there until the heat was off. Sometimes he stayed under my bed, and would only come out if I or Santana bribed him with food. But I didn't see him, so he must be avoiding me. He was a chubby cat, and I knew that he was cheating on his diet. Oh well, I would see him later.

After I put on my shoes, I left my room, and looked around. Outside my room was Santana, waiting for me. I said hello, and she confirmed that she was real-Santana. I had to be sure, after all.

I didn't often get it wrong, but when I did, it was embarrassing. I didn't want to waste any wake-time trying to change the environment. They changed my medication the last time that happened. I tried to explain, but…

After Santana assured me that we were in reality, we headed away from our rooms, chatting. Breakfast used to confuse me, because it was weird that some foods were for morning and not for other times, but Santana explained it to me. So the two of us walked down the hallway to the cafeteria. I got a little ahead of her, because sometimes I like to skip, while Santana walks.

I passed by some people I didn't know, and I didn't see Lord Tubbington. I looked around for someone to ask if they had seen him. A dark-haired girl I wasn't sure if I knew or not was shoving her way to the front of the line. A nervous-looking Finn Hudson was following her, but she didn't seem to notice him. She looked important, so I walked up to her.

"Have you seen Lord Tubbington?"

I asked politely, smiling softly. The girl snorted her large nose at me, and grimaced.

"Who?"

She asked, looking confused.

"My cat, of course."

I explained, still smiling.

"There aren't any cats here, freak. No pets allowed, remember?"

The girl said.

I felt my chin shake, and my eyes watered. Why did no one ever believe me? The girl was so mean- why couldn't everyone be nice? Santana, ever my hero, stepped over to us, and yelled at the mean girl.

"Who the hell do you think you are, hobbit?"

The dark-haired girl gasped, and shouted back,

"Excuse me? How do you not know me- Rachel Berry, future star? How dare you-"

In the back of my mind, I finally recognized the girl with the big nose. I had seen her around here once or twice. She was always complaining, yelling, or crying. She and Santana continued to yell at each other, while Finn started shaking.

"Where's Lord Tubbington?"

I asked again, but no one seemed to hear me. An elderly nurse was talking to me softly, but I didn't know what she was saying. Other nurses were taking Santana, Rachel and Finn away, leaving me. Blaine the magical dolphin walked by, and smiled at me. I smiled back. Blaine wasn't the only dolphin here, but he was the only magical one. (Although Kurt had potential to become unicorn).

I sat down by myself at one of the tables, and ate my breakfast. It was great, as usual. But by my plate was a little paper cup.

I sighed. The doctors couldn't figure out how to help me, so they were just trying all different kinds of medication, to see if one of them worked.

I glanced into the cup.  
Blue oval, two white circles, white oval, and red circle.

I lost track of the different kinds of meds they had me take, so I labeled them by what they looked like.

The blue oval made me feel more relaxed, and less anxious, but they made my mind feel kind of fuzzy.

The white circles made my vision blurry sometimes and super-sharp other times.  
They also made it harder for me to realize if I was in a dream, or in real life.

The red circles kept my mind from going a mile-a-minute all the time, but sometimes when I try to say something, it comes out oddly.

But the white ovals were the worst.  
They made me feel angry, and disagreeable.  
It takes longer for Santana to calm me down.

Sighing again, I swallowed down the pills in one gulp.

After breakfast, I wandered around, saying hello to people, and looking for Lord Tubbington. Sugar Motta, a self-declared really-rich friend of mine, told me that if I couldn't find my cat, she could just buy one for me. But I didn't want another cat- I wanted Lord Tubbington.

I didn't know all of the people I greeted, but many said hello anyway. I spend the majority of the morning like that, not spending much time with anyone one person. Lunch was uneventful.

After lunch, I went to go say hello to more people, when I found a black girl with super-curly hair. She looked really pretty, like the people on TV, so I wondered if she would act all sassy like them.

"Are you going to snap your fingers at me?"

I asked.

"Huh?"

She said, not understanding me. But that was alright- most people didn't know what I was talking about. I changed the topic.

"What's your name?"

I asked, trying to be polite.

"Who wants to know?"

She asked, suspicious.

"Me."

I said. I had thought that was clear, as I had asked.

"Who sent you? Are they watching?"

She asked, peering out the doorway. I wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"I'm Brittany."

I offered, hoping that could help. But before she could respond, I heard a loud meow, and a wide cat was standing by my feet.

"Lord Tubbington!"

I exclaimed, picking him up, and patting him.

"What the- what are you doing?"

The black girl yelled at me. I held out my cat to her, so she could pat him. But she got even more freaked out, and swatted at Lord Tubbington. At the last second, Lord Tubbington jumped out of my arms, and waddled away as quickly as he could. I chased after him, following him down the corridor. But then, I passed by one open doorway that I glanced into. I knew that face!

"Hey, Santana!"

I called, running into the room. Santana smiled at me, and explained that she had been in her room, and that the nurses had just let her leave. So Santana and I sat down at a comfy couch, and talked of irrelevant things. The time passed by quickly, and before I knew it, the room was dark. I knew that we had been talking for hours, but for the life of me, I had no idea what we had talked about. Neither of us had been talking for awhile, so I interrupted the silence.

"Santana,"

I asked,

"Why are some people mean?"

She shrugged.

"I don't know. No one does. Some people just are."

I sighed. I should have known there wouldn't be a simple answer. I nuzzled my face into my best friend's shoulder, and closed my eyes. We stayed like that until the five-until-curfew bell rang. We had been talking for so long, we had missed dinner. I felt bad, since Santana had not been at lunch, but she told me the nurses brought her some food.

"Don't worry."

Santana told me while patting my head.

"It's okay. Someday they'll see how right you are- those doctors don't know anything about you."

She said, obviously following a train of thought. I sniffled, but I was already feeling better because Santana was there.

"Now, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Santana said, smiling at me. I nodded, grinned at her, and said goodbye.

We went into our respective rooms, just before curfew began, and the nurses came down the hallway. I jumped into bed, still smiling. Santana was the best, best friend ever. I patted my bed, waiting for Lord Tubbington to jump up. When he didn't, I sat up, and looked down at the floor. There he was, mewling at me pitifully.

"Oh fine. But you're getting fat!"

I told Lord Tubbington, picking him up off the floor, and placing him on my bed. He was a chubby kitty, and despite my attempts to get him to diet, he never seemed to lose any weight. He didn't want to jump up, the lazy cat. I climbed under the covers, and Lord Tubbington curled up at the end of my bed. His warmth kept my feet cozy warm. I fell asleep to the relaxing sound of his purring.

_"Hi, Brit. I finished your crown…"_

**Author's Note****: does anyone want to guess what's real, and what's not?**


End file.
